


Once in a Blue Moon

by whenshewrites



Series: SterekWeek2020 [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, College Student Stiles Stilinski, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Good Friend Lydia Martin, Humor, Idiots in Love, Jealous Derek Hale, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Protective Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Stiles Stilinski is a Mess, sterekweek2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27297829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenshewrites/pseuds/whenshewrites
Summary: “Right," Stiles said. "I need something from you.”Derek raised an eyebrow and he winced. This was already going off-plan and Stiles hadn't even asked yet.“Not like that,” he said, then winced again. “Actually, it’s exactly like that. See, I told a few friends that I was seeing someone to get them off my back about dating. But now I’m expected to actually have a date for an upcoming party.”Derek’s face remained completely blank. Stiles sighed."I need you to come, dude.”
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: SterekWeek2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990420
Comments: 19
Kudos: 678





	Once in a Blue Moon

“First of all,” Stiles said, pointing his fork at the red-haired banshee across from him. “The chances of Derek ever falling in love with me are like, once in a blue moon. Second of all, it’s just a quick college party to convince my college friends that I’m not single and lonely!”

“But you are single and lonely,” Lydia said, slicing delicately into her chicken as she ignored the fork in her face. “And there’s no way Derek is going to say yes.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, I’m fairly sure,” Lydia said, finally glancing up. “And I’m sorry I can’t go, Stiles. I have a meeting with a professor who decided my paper wasn’t worth an A, and he’s going to regret that decision immensely.”

“On a Friday night?” Stiles frowned. “What, are you using dinner as a cover for an interrogation or something?”

“That’s precisely what it is.”

Stiles blinked, then rolled his eyes. “You can be terrifying sometimes.”

“That is the point.”

“Come on, Lyds,” Stiles said, jabbing his fork into his food, metal screeching against the plate. That earned a few glances from the other people in the relatively-cheap restaurant Stiles had picked out for his and Lydia’s reunion, but he didn’t really care. He was desperate here. “If Derek says no, then I have to go alone. And then my roommate will try to set me up with his douchey best friend and that guy gives me the creeps.”

“Then just say no.”

“And risk pissing my roommate off? Do you realize how dangerous that is?”

Lydia sighed, setting down her utensils and reaching across the table, catching Stiles’s hand and giving a small squeeze. He hated how reassuring that was. “Why don’t you actually ask Derek before you freak out? It’s been a while since he’s visited anyway.”

“I’m not even that far away,” Stiles grumbled. He’d like to say he wasn’t hurt that Derek never came by Stanford to check-in, but that would be a total lie. 

Even the betas visited more often, though it was usually just to complain about their lives or steal his clothes. But still, they came. Scott came. Stiles’s dad and Lydia came.

But Derek had only been by like, twice in the last semester. Sometimes, Stiles wondered if he was the man’s least favorite pack member.

Okay, he didn’t have to wonder.

Sighing, he poked at his food again, appetite long since gone. He’d ask Scott to go with him if the boy wasn’t basically his brother and a terrible actor. And Stiles had already decided he’d never ask the betas, because he didn’t need that kind of blackmail.

But Stiles had gone throughout his entire first year of college staying far away from everyone else. At first, it had been a supernatural thing. He had trust issues, okay? But then it was just the hassle of getting out there and yeah, Stiles ended up having one or two hookups along the way, but that’s all they were. Hookups.

And now the friends he  _ had _ made were starting to get pushy. So, Lydia had been Stiles’s first choice, and Derek was his saving grace.

Dammit if that wasn’t a sentence he’d never thought he’d have to say out loud.

-

On a scale from one to ten about scared for his well being, asking Derek Hale to fake date him for a night was right up there at an eleven.

Stiles had long since come to terms with the fact that his hopeless pining was just that. Hopeless pining. He could totally look at Derek without getting butterflies now, but that’s just because he had accepted his fate.

This was crossing a line that Stiles had told himself he would never cross. And damn, if he wasn’t silently panicking.

Derek, on the other hand, just looked bored. “What did you want, Stiles?”

For a long moment, Stiles stayed silent. He’d practiced this in the mirror at least a dozen times, trying to imagine the different ways that Derek could-- would-- say no. And it really wouldn’t be that bad, would it? It wasn’t like Stiles was baring his soul to the werewolf or anything. He was just asking for a small favor.

A small, totally platonic favor. 

_ “Stiles.” _

“O- oh,” Stiles said, snapping back to reality. “Right. I need something from you.”

Derek raised an eyebrow and Stiles winced. He was already going off script and this was so not going to end well. 

“Not like that,” he said, then winced again. “Actually, it’s exactly like that. See, I might have told a few friends that I was seeing someone to get them off my back about dating. But now I’m expected to have a date for some upcoming party.”

Derek’s face remained completely blank. Stiles hated him a little bit for that.

“Lydia can’t come, though.”

“Okay.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, burying his face in his hands. Why Derek? Why did his saving grace have to be Derek? “Yeah, okay. And I need you to come instead, dude.”

The words were said into his hands and for a long moment, the only sound was the rest of the cafe around them. Stiles kept his face hidden until he felt like it was safe, peering through his fingers at the werewolf to see that Derek’s expression hadn’t really changed much.

A long moment passed before Derek grunted. “No.”

“N-no?”

“No,” Derek said, taking a long, finishing drink of his coffee and setting it back on the table. The man started to stand and Stiles panicked, jumping to his feet so fast, the table nearly toppled over. 

“Dude, hold up, you can’t just say no and leave!”

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek said, still looking unbothered. He slipped a ten out of his wallet and set it on the table, covering both of their drinks before turning away, heading toward the door.

Stiles was almost too shocked to chase after the man.

“Derek, Derek,  _ wait!” _

He caught the man on the sidewalk and Derek sighed, turning around with a tight expression. Like Stiles was being the annoying stubborn one here. “I’m not pretending to be your date, Stiles.”

“It’s just for one night!”

“Why don’t you get an actual one?”

“Because I—” Stiles blinked, then glared. “Because I don’t want one, asshole. I just want to avoid a terrible situation with my roommate’s best friend.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles did his best not to flush red at that, ducking his head. 

“Look, it’s one night. It’s not like you ever to come by Stanford to hang out or anything anyway. No one will even know it’s a lie. Just think of it like a miniature reunion that might involve straight-up lying to my friends one or two times!”

“And these people are really your friends?”

“I mean,” Stiles said, glancing back up. “They’re normal, you know? They’re not pack, of course, but it’s kind of nice sometimes. To be around normal people.”

Derek’s jaw tightened at that and for a moment, Stiles was worried he’d offended the man. But after a long-suffering second of silence, Derek stuffed his hands into his pockets and rolled his eyes. “Fine, one night. But I’m never doing anything like this again.”

Stiles grinned, pumping a fist into the air. “Yes, dude! Thank you!”

Derek just looked completely done with everything. Holding himself back from doing something stupid like hugging the man, Stiles patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. 

“I’ll be in touch then, Sourwolf. The party is this weekend, so I’m expecting both the leather jacket and Camaro. I get to arrive in style!”

“You’ll take what you get, Stiles.”

“Right, right,” Stiles said, waving a hand through the air. “See you Friday, dude!”

He didn’t get a response, but he hadn’t really expected one. Turning away before Derek could change his mind, Stiles hurried back down the street. And he could’ve sworn he felt the man’s gaze burning into his back.

Stiles’s heart was still slamming against his chest when he turned the corner. Because he couldn’t believe that had actually gone well. Derek Hale was his fake date in less than three days.

Stiles hated himself a little bit for how excited he was.

-

His roommate left for the party first, still talking up his friend who was ‘excited to see how things went tonight’ to which Stiles put on his best smile and just nodded. 

There were a few things about Derek literally being the scariest person Stiles had ever met that might work to his favor. Well, maybe not the scariest  _ person,  _ but Derek could most certainly look terrifying when he wanted to. And Stiles was going to use that to his advantage tonight.

He’d texted Derek a few times over the week, but the man had never texted him back except for one reply that was a simple ‘OK’ to all the messages that Stiles had sent earlier. 

And that totally wasn’t infuriating.

Look, Stiles knew this wasn’t an actual date. And he wasn’t going to fool himself into thinking this could ever go somewhere; his life wasn’t a movie. Yeah, Stiles had been crushing on Derek since he was a sixteen-year-old hyperactive teenager, but he also knew Derek would never feel the same. 

Because Derek Hale was… well, Derek Hale. And Stiles was Stiles.

A lot of things had changed over the years and a lot of things hadn’t. And the things between them would never be anything different.

Stiles still hesitated a moment too long in his dorm room when Derek texted  _ ‘here’ _ . He totally didn’t almost have a panic attack, but things would have been so much easier if it was Lydia coming with him tonight instead of Derek.

_ Dammit.  _

Derek was leaning against the passenger side of the Camaro when Stiles got outside, hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket. And Stiles hated himself for the way his heart skipped a beat at the sight of the man— because could he never wear jeans that actually fit? And Derek Hale in a v-neck should be a literal crime.

The man did not have any rights to be such a sexy… sex god. Fuck.

Stiles tried to calm himself down as he approached the Camaro. He was aware enough of the other people in the parking lot eyeing where Derek stood, cursing at the pang of jealousy he felt at that. Because he was totally over Derek Hale, remember?

Butterflies weren’t a thing when he looked at the werewolf anymore.

“Okay, dude,” Stiles said, pausing in front of the car. “So you came through. Leather jacket, Camaro, and everything. Should I be pleased or worried?”

“You should be thankful,” Derek said, opening the door. Stiles raised an eyebrow and the man rolled his eyes, leaving it open as he moved back around the car to the driver’s side. “I’m the fake date, right? Might as well have some manners.”

“Okay, who are you and what have you done to Derek Hale?”

“Shut up,” Derek said, eyes turning a little red. Stiles swallowed hard and ducked down into the passenger’s seat.

Fucking Derek Hale.

Stiles had made a plan, though. He wasn’t staying at this party any longer than necessary and he was totally using Derek to scare off anyone that dared try to make a move. Because Stiles was doing this for a reason, okay? He missed his privacy. He also—  _ almost— _ missed the days when he suspected everyone of being some kind of supernatural threat, sicing the betas on anyone he found suspicious.

He always came up empty-handed.

_ Maybe you just miss Beacon Hills,  _ Scott had told him at one point. And Stiles had proceeded to laugh his ass off for the rest of the day.

Because missing Beacon Hills? Him? There was a threat nearly every other week back home, and Stiles totally didn’t miss running for his life through the preserve more often than not. No, he didn’t miss any of that at all.

Because there was his dad, yeah. But the Sheriff still came to visit when he could— and so did the pack. So honestly, Stiles absolutely had nothing to miss.

Nothing at all.

“Stiles?”

Stiles blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. He didn’t even realize they’d arrived until the faint sound of music reached his ears and then he silently cursed himself for zoning, meeting Derek's curious gaze.

“Right,” Stiles said, forcing a grin. “We’ll be in and out, I promise.”

“You don’t want to spend time with your friends?”

“Uh, do you?”

He could’ve sworn the man turned a little red at that. But it was probably just his imagination. Derek mumbled something intelligible and climbed out of the car, and Stiles hesitated for only a moment longer before following. 

He’d been to enough college parties so far that he wasn’t terribly overwhelmed right away. Granted, this was the first one before the next semester, so there were a lot more people than he was used to, but Stiles didn’t have anything against crowds. Or, anything too much. It wasn’t like he stuck next to Derek’s side as his social anxiety slowly kicked in or whatever.

Except then, as if the man could read his mind, one arm wrapped around Stiles’s waist. Startling, Stiles shot Derek a confused look and the man only smirked a little before turning his gaze back to the rest of the party.

Stiles hated his treacherous heart skipping yet another beat.

“Okay,” Derek said. “Introduce me.”

Once more, Stiles gave him an open-mouthed look. Derek raised an expectant eyebrow, nodding to the rest of the room, and Stiles took a moment to regain his bearings. Then, shaking his head, he started toward the nearest familiar face.

The girl’s eyes snapped when they were less than a few feet away. Or, well, her eyes snapped to Derek, widening for a moment before fixing on Stiles. “Stiles, hey!”

Stiles grinned, fully aware of Derek’s arm still around his waist. He was tempted to glance over and gauge the man’s expression but forced his eyes to stay forward, trying to remain as relaxed as possible.

“Meg, this is Derek. Derek, this is Meg.”

This time, he did glance over. And the smile on Derek’s face was terrifyingly normal. “It’s nice to meet you, Meg.”

Meg’s smile was wide as she stayed focused on Derek’s face for a moment too long. But Stiles supposed he really couldn’t blame her as he continued to stare too, wondering  _ when the hell  _ Derek Hale had such a disarming smile?

Searching his brain, Stiles tried to remember the last time he’d seen Derek smile. And it left him feeling a little empty when he realized he couldn’t.

“Stiles?”

Blinking a few times, Stiles came snapping back to reality. The smile on Derek’s face had faded a little and he looked more intrigued than anything else now. 

Stiles was pretty sure he blushed as he forced himself to look away. “Sorry,” he said, looking back at Meg. “Derek is a… friend of mine.”

The girl raised an eyebrow. “Just a friend?”

“Uh—”

“New boyfriend,” Derek said, before Stiles could mess everything up. Though he might still have, jolting a little bit and giving Derek a bewildered stare.

The man returned his look with an easy smirk. Shaking his head, Stiles tore his gaze away. “Yeah,” he said, words sticking a little. “Boyfriend.”

He didn’t even know how to begin approaching any of this. But Meg just nodded, still smiling, and Stiles stayed stuck in his head for a moment longer before they were moving along again, toward yet another voice calling his name.

Derek smiled the entire time. Through every friend, every stranger. The man made polite small talk and only removed his arm from around Stiles’s waist to shake a hand or readjust, always pulling Stiles right back in seconds later.

There were a few times Stiles looked down into his drink and wondered faintly if it was spiked— and all of this was just some kind of massive hallucination.

He didn’t know how to deal with what was happening.

See, when he’d imagined tonight, staying up for hours panicking, he’d imagined it being awkward as hell. Sometimes, he worried Derek might rip his throat out if he said the wrong thing. In front of everyone would be how Stiles Stilinski went.

But it was all so normal. All so painfully  _ normal  _ that Stiles didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Yo, Stiles!”

He startled so hard, Derek glanced over in concern. But Stiles didn’t have a chance to say anything before his roommate was moving across the room, cup in hand with another guy at his side— one with an athletic build and the type of expression that reminded Stiles a little too much of Jackson.

He shuddered at that thought. “Hey, Vincent.”

“This is Brad,” Vincent said, nudging his friend in the ribs. Brad grinned and raised his cup, eyes raking up and down where Stiles stood. His skin crawled a little bit at that and, arm still circled around his waist, he was surprised to feel Derek’s grip tighten. 

“Uh, yeah, right. Nice to meet you, Brad.”

“And this is?” Brad said, jerking his head toward Derek. When Stiles glanced over, Derek’s eyes were hard and his lips were pressed tightly together. And  _ there  _ was that type of murderous expression that Stiles had dragged the werewolf here for in the first place. 

“This is Derek,” Stiles said, when it was clear Derek wasn’t going to say anything. Which was another first for the night.

Vincent looked a bit uncomfortable, offering a small nod. Brad almost looked nervous too, but he kept his chin up, that cocky smile slowly making its way back onto his face as the seconds ticked past.

“So, Stiles,” he said, turning his shoulder toward Derek. That’s when Stiles heard the first sound of a growl. “What are you doing after this?”

“Uh,” Stiles hesitated for a second. “I think we might just head back to the dorm.”

“We?”

“Derek and I.”

Brad’s smile tightened a fraction. He glanced back at Derek for only a second before scoffing. “Seriously?”

Stiles blinked. But before he could say a word, Vincent stepped in.

“There’s another party going on just down the street that we were going to check out,” he said, glancing sideways at his friend. Brad shrugged. “Then we’re gonna hit the bar on 18th street. You should come.”

Derek’s grip was tight enough that it was starting to hurt now. Stiles shifted, nudging the man in the side with his elbow. He could still swear he could hear the slightest growl coming from Derek’s throat— which wouldn’t prove to be good for anyone.

“I don’t know,” Stiles said. Because that wasn’t the plan. He hadn’t planned on going anywhere after the party except back to his dorm. “I think we might call it a night soon.”

“Lame,” Brad muttered, low enough that Stiles barely caught it. But Derek definitely growled this time and Brad looked at him in surprise. Then the boy’s eyes narrowed. “Dude, what the hell is wrong with your eyes?”

Stiles’s heart stopped and he whipped sideways, meeting Derek’s gaze. And yep, that was a hint of red in Derek’s usually grey-green eyes. Vincent started to follow his friend’s gaze too but before he could, Stiles stepped between them, taking both of Derek’s hands.

“Dude,” he hissed, alarm rising in his throat. “What are you doing?”

Derek just clenched his jaw, lowering his eyes to the floor. Glancing over his shoulder, Stiles chuckled nervously and situated himself so he was still standing as Derek’s only barrier.

“We’re just gonna go now. Bad, uh, dinner earlier.”

“What?”

“See you later, Vinc.”

Before either Stiles’s roommate or his douche of a best friend could say anything, Stiles steered Derek away. The party had worn down some and he was able to make it to the front door without incident, ducking past a few people crowded around it and pulling Derek out into the night.

The moment they were across the lawn and close enough to the Camaro, Stiles spun right back around.

“Derek, what the hell was that about?”

Derek pulled his hands away, folding his arms over his chest and shooting a venomous glance toward the frat house. “I did what you asked of me, didn’t I? Brad won’t be asking you out anywhere if he knows what’s good for him.”

“Dude,” Stiles said, staring. “You nearly went Alpha on his ass.”

“Would that have been a bad thing?”

“Would that have been a— yes, Sourwolf, that would have been a very bad thing!”

Derek just grunted, not looking convinced. And the entire one-eighty was so sudden, Stiles’s head was spinning. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

“Okay, well that party is over.”

“You didn’t seem to be having much fun anyway,” Derek said. Stiles blinked at him.

“What?”

“You were anxious and bored the entire time,” Derek said. “A combination which I didn’t know was possible until tonight.”

“I was— I was not.”

Derek gave him a flat look. Stiles frowned.

“Whatever. I just wanted to get it over with.”

“Which is why you brought me along,” Derek said. For a moment, the entire ‘Alpha’ bravado actually seemed to drop and he looked a little bothered. “To scare off your supposed friends and make sure they never invited you anywhere ever again, right?”

“Woah, woah, wait. My supposed friends?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles’s frown turned to a glare as anger crashed over him.

“That’s nowhere near true.”

“You said it yourself,” Derek said hotly. “They’re not pack. They’re  _ normal.  _ But that’s not what you want, is it, Stiles?”

“Why the hell isn’t that something I would want?”

“Because you’re not normal!”

Stiles drew back, a pang shooting through him at the sight of Derek’s red eyes and furious expression. For a moment, he just looked at Derek, Derek looked back, and then the man growled, turning his face away until his eyes were back to normal again.

“I did what you asked, Stiles. Should I drive you back to your dorm now?”

Stiles stood there for another second, throat tight. Then, without a word, he turned toward the Camaro. Because he really didn’t trust himself with words at the moment.

Derek took a little while longer to follow. There was no opening of the passenger side door when he stalked over, unlocking the car and climbing into the driver’s seat before slamming it closed.

There was no talking either, when the man slid the keys into the ignition. Stiles clicked his seatbelt in and glared out the window, listening to the faint sound of music where the frat house seemed to glow neon blue from the lights inside. 

And damn, if he hadn’t imagined this night going a lot of different ways.

But somehow, it had still gone off the rails.

-

When they pulled up in front of his dorm, the parking lot was empty and the one street light barely cast enough light for Stiles to see ten feet in front of him.

He climbed silently out of the Camaro, surprised to see Derek do the same. The man looked at him over the top of the car and Stiles swallowed hard, holding his gaze for a moment before turning away.

“Stiles.”

He froze, cursing himself silently. Stiles could hear the man’s footsteps on the asphalt as Derek moved around the car, finally lifting his eyes to meet grey-green again. 

“Look, Derek, I know tonight went worse than expected, but—”

“Did you like what happened back there?”

Stiles blinked, clamping his mouth shut again. Derek’s face turned a little red and he dropped his gaze.

“I mean, do you like how normal things here usually are?”

_ Oh. _

Stiles stayed quiet, thinking Derek’s words over for a moment. In truth, something about it had been unsettling. Not the party, not the crowd. Derek, maybe. Stiles thought he’d love to see the man smile more and engage in conversation that easily somewhere else. Anywhere else.

But only if it were real. It had to be real.

“Is all of this what you want?” Derek asked, voice barely a whisper. Stiles sighed.

“No,” he said. Derek glanced up, looking startled, and he shrugged. “Or… not like that.”

The man raised an eyebrow. Stiles swallowed hard.

“It’s nice sometimes, you know? I know who these people are, Derek. They’re not supernatural. They’re not going to rip my throat out one day or get killed by a bunch of psycho hunters who think they’d be better as trophies than people.”

Derek winced. Stiles scoffed.

“No,” he said. “They’re not pack. But I’ve spent enough of my life lying about everything that all of this doesn’t seem like much of an issue anymore.”

“So am I a part of the lie now too, then?”

Stiles met the man’s gaze carefully. He wasn’t sure if it was the dim light of the street lamp or the fact that he’d drunk a little too much at the party, but Derek looked downright  _ vulnerable.  _ And this time, it actually seemed real. “I don’t want you to be.”

There was a flicker of red in the werewolf’s eyes. Stiles shook his head.

“I mean, we can totally pretend this whole fake dating thing never happened and go back to our previous arrangement or whatever, but—”

He didn’t get the chance to finish that sentence.

Because suddenly, Derek was kissing him.

Stiles’s brain logged offline for a moment. There was the strangest noise and then he realized it had come from  _ him,  _ Derek’s hand cupping the back of his neck as the man kissed him hard and deep, something about the cool night air and the fact that Stiles was not dreaming making the entire world pause around him for a long moment.

Up close, Derek smelled like leather and pine. There was no alcohol on his breath, though Stiles was pretty sure the taste of college beer had to be on his. Which was a strange thought, he figured, closing his eyes as Derek carded a hand through his hair and then finally,  _ finally,  _ he surged forward to kiss the man back.

Maybe a little more hard and hungry. Maybe a little more wanting and hoping that this was real. That this wasn’t part of another lie.

This couldn’t be part of another lie.

Derek growled at the back of his throat, the sound sending shivers down Stiles’s spine. And it was all wolf and one-hundred percent possessive. Nothing normal, nothing ordinary about it.

And dammit, if Stiles had been dreaming about this since he was an idiot teenager ogling werewolf abs when he thought no one was looking.

What had he told Lydia? The chance of Derek ever falling for him was once in a blue moon. Stiles was pretty sure the moon was not blue-- so did this count as falling? He blinked when Derek broke the kiss, drawing away, and there were sparks of red in the man’s eyes that faded ever so slowly.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Derek watched him almost nervously, chest rising and falling a little faster than usual.

Stiles blinked again. Once, twice. He was pretty sure this wasn’t a dream.

“Stiles?”

“That was real,” Stiles said, finally taking a breath. The man’s eyebrows drew together and he actually looked a little amused.

“It was.”

“Derek Hale just kissed me, even though the moon was not blue.”

Grey-green eyes flicked upward and then Derek gave him a strange look. But Stiles was still trying to process, touching his lips experimentally and then squinting at the werewolf, reaching out to touch the man’s cheek. 

And yeah, that was Derek Hale’s beard. Stiles breathed out a quiet  _ ‘fuck’  _ and Derek rolled his eyes.

“Are you done?”

“One more time,” Stiles said, moving forward. Before Derek could react, he was kissing the man again, one hundred percent online this time as Derek stiffened in surprise, then growled, kissing him hard back. Stiles couldn’t tell which was more hungry this time.

It wasn’t normal. Nothing about this was normal.

But Stiles figured if anything was going to be out of the ordinary, it would be who he was not single and lonely with. There was something about Derek Hale happening once in a blue moon and dammit, if Stiles wasn’t going to latch on and never let go.

Once in a blue moon, he thought. But this moon wasn’t blue.

And maybe that made it so much better.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day Six of SterekWeek2020 (Blue Moon) and I had so much fun with this one! I don't think I write fake/pretend relationships very often, but I really should, because this was fun! Of course, I'd love to hear what you all thought. And happy almost Halloween!


End file.
